God, I hated that show. Almost as much as I hate Claire Danes. Jared Leto I could deal with, as he is fairly cute in that homo-erotic kind of way, but the labored conversation supposedly simulating high school social situations was nothing like actual high school, maybe just in L. A. where everyone talks funny and peculiarly slow anyway. Really, we were more like AJ Langer's character, the "friend". God only knows why that show became such a hit.
My parents were up for a visit this weekend. Nowadays, when I say "parents", I actually mean my mom and stepfather, which is funny because up until recently, my stepfather and I had hardcore issues with each other. But like I said in my post Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda, we are now able to see the humanity in each other and get along wonderfully 90% of the time. Anyway, they are the set of parents that can still travel, and I do feel a twinge of guilt at not acknowledging my daddy as one of them. After all, if it weren't for him, I obviously wouldn't exist, nor would I have these lovely green eyes, my muscular, Morgan legs and the trademark dry wit. It's just that the actual explanation would take a bit longer (and us Morgans are lazy by nature), and besides, daddy would be happy to know that I've finally accepted my stepfather as an equal human being. The weekend was pretty great. We watched movies, played/fought with my cats, did a spot of shopping and ate yummy things, like an Argentinean parrillada - a small grill full of meat and sausages. Num num. I was sad to see the parents go, but I will see them and daddy in a couple of weeks when I go to Washington. Which reminds me, I have to buy my plane ticket. Nevertheless, I miss my mommy something awful, and since it doesn't take long for me to get used to her loveliness in my home, I am already depressed at the thought of not seeing her when I get home. And now I will cry.....
Yesterday, I saw my X's ex on the 7 train. You know, the cow of which I spoke back in January. She of course looked me straight in the eye and then turned away, pretending not to have seen me or even to have met me. Fine by me, and boy do I wish that were so! The problem is that every time I see her, which is perhaps once or twice a month, as she both lives, works and frequents (way too often) a bar near me, as my horrible luck would have it, I start to question why in the hell I am still friends with X. I know that one should not come to a conclusion about a person based on one mistake which just happens to linger on, but my mom always says "dime con quien andas y te dire quien sos." Which basically means, you are just as great or suck just as bad as the people with whom you hang out. Then I start to wonder, Christ, what does all this X shit say about me? I'm hoping it says I'm an extremely kind and charitable person. I am aware, however, that that my continuing friendship with X might say "Mariposa is a foolish pushover." Oh, well. I'm having fun now, but let me find out something and X will be kicked to the curb. Although not tonight as he is coming over to make me vegetable lasagne, as was my request. Nice to have a semi-personal chef, especially when the customized service comes free of charge and obligation.
Work is always the same, although I'm running out of challenges to work on. This means that I am slowly being dragged back to being office-chump. Opportunities for editing and translating, the only things really that kept me here, are drying up so I am trying to be out of here. Onwards and upwards!